A couple of nights ago a friend was over for dinner & a glass of wine. We got to sharing exercise ‘war stories’, and she was telling us about how she attended a “Boot Camp” exercise class for the first time. Her instructor (who happened to be her daughter) worked them hard, and our friend thought she’d had a pretty good workout, but felt she had done well. Until the next morning when she hit the washroom for her morning relief. When she tried to raise herself from her seat her legs wouldn’t cooperate and there she sat until some time later when her legs decided they had punished her enough. Well of course we laughed and we laughed – silly woman!. Well! Let me tell you that that ain’t no BS Mr. Whalen. I had attended my workout session Wednesday so my legs were a little tense, shall we say. But all was good, until about 03:00 when I hit the John for my morning constitutional (get used to it folks, it becomes a routine as you age). Upon completion of the task my brain sent a message to my legs to arise from the throne, your kingly duties are done. My legs pulled a Telus on me. Somewhere the call was dropped. I’ve no idea where it went, it just didn’t make it all the way to recipient legs. So I ‘redialed’ and same thing. Nope. You ain’t gettin’ up – no how! Well there I sat, in the dark, with my legs laughing at me ’cause buddy “… you ain’t goin’ nowhere!” I thought of calling out for my bride but the old ‘salmon eye’ raised a spectre of humiliation that would be unbearable (plus I thought she would likely collapse from laughter & I was in no position to help her). I thought of calling our friend to share the irony, but considering the hour and the fact that my cell phone was in the kitchen, that plan was out. I thought of just falling back to sleep right there but then furore that would be raised when my bride came in for her morning ritual made me flush that plan (bad pun intended). Well, I won’t go into detail but I was able to work my way to my knees and shuffle back to bed, with my agonizing legs laughing at me the whole time. I clawed my way back into bed – when did they start making beds this high? – and lay there contemplating life, exercise and Telus. When does it stop hurting? Please!
You know when they say that exercise is good for you? It’ll make you stronger. Well at my age it’s just a way of telling you how really badly out of shape you are & you haven’t a hope in hell of ever being buff. I don’t want to be buff. I just don’t want to be in pain every time I lift something heavier than a sandwich. Today we did the “step long, twist left, twist right” plus some squats and weird side steps for 30 long freakin’ minutes. I was good for about twenty minutes, which really wasn’t too bad, but on the third set of reps I could have cheerfully cut my legs off & bought myself one of those boards that you see legless dogs running around on. On top of it all, part of their ‘training’ is getting you to eat your big meal in the morning. Well on top of three large glasses of water I have two eggs, toast, cottage cheese and a 12 ounce fruit smoothie. I can only pray that nobody sees the kaleidoscope of colour when I hurl the whole mess up. But I know this is going to be worth it in the end. Not just for me but for my bride. Keep up your encouragement folks with both the exercise and this blog. I really appreciate it on both counts. For now I’m going to drop my sorry butt into bed & see if sleep will revive them at all. On the brighter side, I’m off until Tuesday. Blessed bloody relief! G’night all.
If you look under my “Manners” link, you’ll see how I would really like it if people didn’t cuss in this forum? Well I really really want to be the first one to break that rule. How is it possible that two appendages that I have carried around all of my life, used every single day of my life, cared for, broken only three times, rarely abused with heavy manual labour, can fail me so miserably? I’ve only had two Monday workouts & already I am developing a strong dislike for Monday. And it is second only to Richard, my PT. I’m convinced that he thinks I’m nuts. He gives me encouragement & tells me to keep with it, but all I can hear is “What you doing you fat old fart? You should be off somewhere fishing, pounding back a pile o’beer, & eatin’ Cheetos by the bag!” Today I had to do these dumbass er, sorry, that should be dumbbell, exercises with 5 pound weights above shoulder height. Well I did 15 okay. That is if you count having to go down to the 2 pounder half way through as ‘okay’. By the next five of the next set I was down to using no weights – even my bloody hands were too heavy – if I could’ve dropped them to the floor I would. I felt pretty foolish with all these people around me hefting heavy duty weights around like they were a bag of Old Dutch, and here I am flailing the air like a dying duck without any feathers. After the 24 hours session was done I literally dragged my towel & water bottle into the change room. I know the clanking down the stairs was annoying as hell, but at that point I really didn’t care. I tried to take my shirt off but couldn’t raise my arms. With my teeth I dragged my bag off the shelf to the floor, & again used my teeth to pull my street clothes off the rack & drop them into the bag. I then tied the towel to the bag (no shoulder straps) & just dragged the whole mess out to my truck. I am sure I heard giggles behind me on the way out the door – I hope I wasn’t dragging my personals behind the bag? My arms had recovered enough by this time that I was able to start the truck, but I ended up driving home with my knees. Have you ever seen those people that drive as their taught, at 10 o’clock & 2 o’clock, and when the turn it’s 10 o’clock to 9 o’clock, and 1 o’clock to 2 o’clock, and backwards again to straighten out? Try doing that with your knees. I think my neighbor might be mad about the sudden brake marks in his lawn leading up to his sun bench. If I had use of my arms I would just replace his with our identical one, but …! I was so bagged that the couch called me over & we had some intimate time before I recovered enough to get back to work – which is a whole ‘nother story! On the plus side, I’m sleeping like a baby, which I haven’t really done well for quite a while now! It’s 5:10 pm. I’m off to bed. G’night all.
Do you know what your ‘core’ is? Don’t let anyone tell you that is the centre of your health & from there all good things grow. It is actually this tiny ball of misery that sits inside of you, calmly complacent as long as you don’t disturb it. Then one day you decide you’re going exercise. “Core” says, “Go ahead; make my day!” Did you know you can actually get cramps in your stomach muscles? In multiple spots? It’s like someone drove a fist through all that nice fat, grabbed onto your kegger & twisted twelve times. The only way to alleviate the cramping is to roll onto your stomach, drive your hips into the ground & stretch backward, trying to touch your heels with the back of your head. Then hold that position for two hours, because if you don’t you’re going to fold up like a chaise lounger.
After everything relaxed & the trainers called off the EMT’s (who all stared because none of them had seen muscles do that before on a living person that didn’t have a knife in their gut) I walked (fast mind you), on the treadmill. It really wasn’t so bad except that someone nearby either really rousted up the body odour with exercise, or they hadn’t bathed since the river broke. I was tempted to approach the person & ask “Do I stink?” “No? Good then, it’s got to be you!” But then I am sure this muscle bound tiny person would have reached into my core & ‘Bam” there I am stretching my head backward while abrading my nether regions on the concrete. The good news? I sent the crane company home because I can now lift my leg over my ride myself, with the use of some smaller apparatus’ of course. But it is Saturday and amazingly the muscles are only wimpering today. I’m glad because their screaming was making me nuttier than Lindsey Lohan at a cocaine smorg. Oh yeah, life goes on!
No personal training today. Yay! There are muscles screaming at me that I didn’t know I had. Personally, I think they belong to someone else because they’ve never shown their painful little selves before today. Did you know that there are 1,800 seconds in 30 minutes? That is one thousand eight hundred seconds, each of which lasts for an hour when you are ‘training’. Last night I was sleeping nicely & decided to roll over & lo & behold, my body said “self, you ain’t goin’ nowhere”. I was frozen like one of those people in the movies that is injected with something that freezes them. So I started with my toes – I really didn’t know there were that many muscles in your toes – or that they could hurt like that without stubbing them. Gawd! Well eventually I dragged my sorry ass upright & tried to stand. That didn’t work so I flopped back into bed, woke my bride & asked her to cover me because my arms are still too weak. I got that sideways look – then she picked up the pillow & I swear I could hear her thinking ‘a minute or so, that’s all it takes’. I refused to let her see the fear in my eyes – well actually I closed them & it hurt to try to open them. She must have had a change in heart because I’m here to testify. Now to get my sorry arse off this chair & step into the shower. I don’t think I’ll be swinging my leg over my bike this morning – maybe I’ll take public transit? Have a good day all.
So, Day #2. I’d have been here sooner but it took me this long to drag myself home. Today was legs day. Now I have four useless appendages (don’t even go there …!) being hauled around on this torso. It’s a good thing I have two days off because on Friday Richard tells me he we’re going to work on my ‘core’. Like I’m a freakin’ apple? My core is covered by fat that keeps it warm. I don’t want my core getting cold. It shrivels when it’s cold. I walked back to the office this morning – I guess it was more like shuffled. I couldn’t lift my leg over the seat of the bike – just too heavy! So my bike had a play date with all the cars at the gym. No dents so I’m assuming it was a good date. Now I think I am going to nap for two full days. Maybe I can just dream my way thin. I asked Richard if they had a plan to skip the next six weeks & I could just get to the svelt part right away. Alas, such is not to be. Stay tuned folks. More to come.
Today was my first real workout with a personal trainer (CPT). Remember all the names we had for PT in school? Well they still apply! My office boy arms are useless today. I had to type this with my nose – it’s the only part of my entire body that was not exercised this morning, so it is the only one that works. The rest of me is just slumped in my chair like a bag of …! God help me because I have to do this again tomorrow morning. I think I’ll just take an IV bag & stand full of adrenaline with me? Either that or a gun!